


Hiddle Me This

by Calenhad



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calenhad/pseuds/Calenhad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of Tom Hiddleston one shots. Fluff, smut, cuteness, love, angst and more. Tom X Reader, Tom X OFC & OMC, other randomness</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. O n e  a n d  O n l y

[Tom x Reader]

Settings: Tom's been away filming The Hollow Crown, you fall asleep watching The Deep Blue Sea, Imaging it was you and Tom together. You wake up to a certain suprise. 

[e/c] = Eye Colour

[h/c] = Hair Colour

[h/l] = Hair Length

[s/c] = Skin Colour

**[ _You_ ]**

You missed him. You thought as you stared at yourself in the mirror whilst brushing your teeth. You look into your [e/c] eyes and wondered why he loved you. You loved him more than anything. Your love for him was beyond words, but you, with your [h/l] [h/c] locks and your [s/c] marred skin, you were just another plain Jane. Sighing, you rinsed and turned the lights off, settling down on the couch in your apartment to watch a movie. You went through the list of movies on your T.V and spotted The Deep Blue Sea, a movie tom did in 2011. You bit you lip. Were you really that pathetic? You had your answer when you pressed play. You grabbed a blanket and draped it around your shoulders. You watched as the opening scene started and you sighed once again. You really were pathetic. You smiled when Tom made his first appearance and gasped when he kissed the main actress, imagining it was you instead. You were so pathetic. You hadn't seen Tom in over six weeks. He'd text and called you, sometimes he'd call you on skype but it still wan't as good as the real thing. Your eyes grew heavy and you fell asleep imagining that you were resting on tom Tom's chest, listening to his deep breathing.

You stirred in your sleep, a cold breeze on the side of your face. You groaned and wondered if you'd left the window open, subjecting your apartment to the dreary London weather. You opened your eyes, your sight bleary at first. You went to rub your eyes when you hit something cold, hovering just above your face. You gasped and blinked a few more times, your eyes focusing on the figure in front of you. "Hello, my love." He said. You struggled to breathe. "Tom." Was all you managed to gasp out. He grinned and without another word you grabbed his face and pressed his lips to yours. His cool, slender fingers grasped the side of your face, his fingers slid into your [h/c] hair. He groaned as his lips moved against yours, pulling your body towards him you both ended up a tanged heap on the floor, he ontop of you. Tom grinned as your hands ran over his soft curls. "Well, someones happy to see me...tell me love..." he whispered into your ear, kissing down your neck. "What movie were you watching?" he asked you, humour in his voice, you growled and grabbed his firm ass, fingers digging in. He chuckled and kissed you on the mouth once again. "I love you, my love, my only love." He whispered as he removed you shirt. You caressed his cheek. "I love you too."


	2. T h e  M o r n i n g  A f t e r

**[Tom x Reader]**

_Settings: You wake up to the smell of bacon wafting into a unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar apartment with and unfamiliar man.._

 

The first thing you notice when you wake is the smell of the bacon. You inhale, you stomach growling fiercely. Your eyes cracked open slightly, letting in the blinding light. You groaned and raised your head off of the pillow and looked about the room. It was a room with high white ceilings and grey wallpaper on the walls, there was a single door off to the right and a set of glass double doors in front of you. You ran your hands over the soft blue duvet and frowned, where were you? You threw the covers of and gasped. You were stark naked. You looked around the room and spotted some lacy underwear on the ground, you stood and collect the scanty clothing. You slipped the bra on and grabbed the panties. You blushed wildly when you realized they were torn to shreds.   
  
You looked around the room for anything else, your eyes landed on a pair of pale blue boxers. You bit your lip and decided they were better than nothing. Slipping them on you decided you needed to find a mirror and where the hell you were. You moved over to the door on the right and pushed it open. Inside was a large bathroom, on the right was a vanity with a large mirror, a toilet was in the corner and on the right was a large shower, big enough to put a small bed inside. You crept over to the mirror and inspected your reflection. Your eyes ran over your [h/c] locks which ended around around your shoulders. Your eyes widened when you saw the little red and purple marks all over your neck. You traced them lightly with your finger, blushing when you realized what they were. You spotted a laundry basket behind the door and you went and rifled through it, looking for something to wear. There was only a few shirts in there, one was big enough to slip on, a simple white dress shirt. You buttoned it up and sighed, the smell of bacon coming through the door. Where were you? You scratched your head, exiting the bathroom.  _'My name?'_ You wondered.  _'What is my name?'_   
  
You stopped short when you noticed a figure standing in the doorway, a male figure. He was holding a plate, piles with scrambled eggs and bacon. You stomach rumbled. "[Your name]..." He breathed. The man was stunning. He was tall and slender, but not without some muscles. He had light stubble on his chin and curly hair, its colour somewhere between ginger and brown. His blue eyes captivated you, they were crisp and deep. When he smiled, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. He was beautiful. The man set the food down on the dresser and stood in the doorway. "Darling, please, come sit. I'm sure you're confused." He said gesturing to the bed. Any worries you had about who and where you were vanished.  
  
You stumbled towards the bed and plopped down on the edge, weak in the knees. "Wh-whats going on? My head, it feels...stuffy..." You rubbed your forehead and he gave you a tight smile. He then walked past you towards the beside table and opened a drawer, pulling out a large white book. He slid the drawer closed and stood there for a moment, you stared at his back, confused. He turned around and smiled, though somehow you knew that it wasn't a genuine smile. He crouched down in front of you and placed the book in your lap. "This is us." He said, opening the book. In the middle of the first page was a photo. Upon further inspection you noticed two people in the picture. Though it was in black and white, it was coloured with love. The woman was in a stunning wedding dress which you assumed was grey, which suit her perfectly. The man had on a white suit, his arms wrapped around her waist in a loving embrace. The two weren't smiling, instead their heads rested against each other, their eyes were closed and you could tell it was a very intimate moment, that if wasn't forced or posed, they mightn've even known the photo was being taken.   
  
The two in the picture were you...and him. You looked up at him. "Your name is [y/n]. We've been married five years, but together for seven. We got married on the 5th of June." He said, his eyes cast downwards. He ran his thumb over the palm of your hand. "How? I-" You struggled to make sense of it. "We met at some dive of a bar and we got to talking. You never did give me your number." He let out a small laugh at this. "I'd told you of my aspirations and you wished me well. When I asked for your number, you said that if I ever managed to achieve all my goals and dreams, you'd somehow find me. You see, we were both so busy with life and our careers at the time." He paused and looked up at you. Finally one day, two years later around Christmas time, I went back into that bar and sat there for a while when you walked in. We sat and chatted for a while before you asked me the question we'd both been waiting for..." He flipped the page, this one had a stained, faded old napkin on it with cursive writing on it,  _[First Name, Last Name]_ followed by a line of digits. "You asked me if I'd achieved all that I'd set out to do. I told you no. You just sat there looking at me for a while, you looked somewhat sad. You asked me what else I had left to do and I said th-"   
  
"The only thing I have left is you..." You finished. He looked at you, a sad smile on his beautiful face. You still didn't understand. You felt like you'd known him forever, you could trust him and love him. Like he was your world, yet you had no memories of him. The words just came out of your mouth without permission. "Oh [y/n]." He leant forward and kissed your cheek, whispering words of adoration in your ear. He pulled back and took your hands in his, holding them in your lap.   
  
"Two years ago, we were out for a drive, coming back from a day out when we had a collision with another car, your side received most of the damage. We later found out there was oil on the road. I was battered and bruised but only walked away with a minor sprain in my hand and ankle, but you were flown to the nearest hospital. You'd received significant head and spine trauma. Part of me died that day. They told me that there was heavy bleeding around the brain and that they were doing all they could, but they told me that you might have permanent brain damage and may never walk again. You were in that hospital for 14 months in a induced coma. After the first five the doctors told me that you could walk again, with some rehab. Then the waiting game began. I waited and waited for you to wake up. Finally, after six months of waiting you opened your eyes, but you weren't the same. Doctors ran tests on you but they wouldn't let me see you. One day they decided to let me in, but not to talk to you. I asked why but the nurses wouldn't say. I walked in and saw you there, wide awake, but you didn't see me. You just looked at me and asked if I was another doctor. I'd never ran so fast and so far in my life." He looked up at you, his eyes red with unshed tears. You realised that it was harder for him to tell you this than it was for you to hear it. You slipped you hand out from beneath his and ran your hands over your head, parting your hair to feel the scalp beneath. Sure enough, you felt the lines of scars, both big and small. However you don't remember seeing any other scars in the mirror earlier. "I went back to the hospital after many hours of wandering around the London streets. They'd told me you suffered from memory loss, which kind was undetermined. You were in hospital another three months before we moved to a rehab centre. We stayed there for four months before we moved back in here." You should be shocked or sad or angry, but it felt like you already knew this. You looked at the album in your hands. You flicked through it, looking at photos of you and him, all the memories you didn't remember. "Do you do this everyday? Do you wake me up and tell me all about the life I don't remember?" Your voice cracked and his face filled with a sad kind of happiness. He shook his head. "There will be some days when you remember everything, those days we just sit and talk and well..." He trailed off, blushing. Your temperature was certainly running high after that. He just smiled. "Yesterday, you remembered. The day before you didn't. That day I told you, you didn't say much. You just sat there with me. There are some days where you get angry and others where I can't get you to wake...they're the worst..." He kissed the palm of your hand, his breathing uneven. "Then there are the days you can go on for three or four days of remembering. One time, after rehab, you went an entire week of remembering...you were so hopeful, but after the week you slept for a month..." He sighed. "We renewed our vows that week." That memory made him smile, which only made your heart break. You started to cry uncontrollably. He caressed you cheek and tried to calm you. "Hush now, love, please don't cry." You wrapped you arms around him and cried, right into the cool skin of your neck. "Please, come lay down." He picked you up and took you to the head of the bed and set you down in the middle, slipping in beside you he pulled the covers over you. You lie there, side by side, face to face. He ran his hands over your hair and kissed your tears away. After a while you looked up at him, though his face was blurred by tour teart vision, he was still beautiful. "Why?" You asked him.  
"Why what, my love?"  
"Why are you still here?"  
He looked at you then, you saw the answer to the question in his eyes.   
"Because I love you. You are the only one for me, memory or not. Believe me when I say, your memory has nothing to do with your personality." He smiled an achingly beautiful smile. "I know you love me too. You don't react normally. You don't run away in fear or try to end it all. The days that you do forget and I tell you, you react like you've never forgotten at all because while your memories may not be there, you still know me." He kissed you once again, this time on the mouth to which you responded. He was right, this was familiar, but you just couldn't place it. Like deja vu.   
"Say it, say my name." He whispered, his mouth ghosting over yours. You felt something tug at the corners of your mind, tug after tug, nothing appeared. But you didn't need memory to remember his name. It was contained within your heart, imprinted our your very soul, no matter what you did or didn't remember, you knew that it was a name, that he was a man you'd never forget.   
"I love you, now and always in all your different states. Every day holds a different obstacle, but we always overvome it. In the end, I get to watch you fall in love with me all over again." He kissed you with passion, his hands curling into the hair at the back of your neck. You parted for air and brought your hands up to his face, wiping away his tears.   
"I love you too, Tom."


	3. E t e r n a l

**[Tom x** **Her]  
**  
 _Third person/first person [Tom]_  
  
  


He'd been laughing at her, twirling and dancing on the footpath. Her laughter rang in his ears, a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. If only she knew what was going to happen. The small velvet box weighed a ton in his vest pocket. His nerves knocked the breath out of him every now and then. She whispered in his ear, words of love. They walked down the street, to the restaurant where he'd reserved a table. There was a certain spark in her eyes that night. 

A block away he scrambled to get the bag of clothes and scrambled down the stairs, his phone jammed between his ear and shoulder, his wife's screams of labor on the other end. Strapping himself in, he hurried off, hoping to see the birth of his firstborn. 

She mashed her lips against his. A sweet kiss, broken by the smile that graced her cherry lips. His heart grew bigger and beat faster, all for her. She stepped away, twirling once again into another realm. 

It didn't take long, not long at all. Mere seconds for her soul to drift up from her broken body, up into the stars, leaving him behind. 

It was as if he could see her departure, though the reflection in the pool of blood splayed around her head. 

His vision forever tainted with red.

He emerged from his car, the phone with the screaming newborn on the other end long forgotten.

A new life to replace the old one, it was how he saw it, many years after the accident.  
He had stood, a man of nearly fifty, marrying off his daughter of his second 'wife' to the son of the man who took his first. 

He'd seen it as not an act of god or coincidence. Somewhere, the love of his life had all this planned. 

He knew it was all connected the moment he laid his eyes of her, his hairs on his head now almost all silver. He gently rocked his first grandchild, with the oh so familiar eyes. He knew, because the young infant had the same spark she did.

Even now, as he lay on his death bed, she still had the spark in her eye, his granddaughter, now the age that she was when she died. He'd spent the last few moment whispering words of love and wisdom. He was not sad. He was not afraid. It was because of all these incidents throughout his life that he was no longer afraid. He knew that finally, after years full of love and tears and anger and life, he would finally be at peace with the world, in the embrace of his eternal love.

With a grin of his face and hope in his heart, he slipped away, floating up towards the stars.


	4. H o r i z i o n

_**[Tom x her]** _

  
  


He'd first noticed the signs roughly over a year after they'd first officially started dating. He was so in love with her and love so in return. It was a passionate love, filled with warm moments, late night love making and the occasional bouts of rough sex. It always made him laugh and blush like a teenager when he thought of it. She'd been on the decline the moment he'd asked her to marry him. She'd said yes, of course. Ecstatic she'd told the news to her family and friends and started to plan the weeding. He'd been content to sit back and watch her, a grin on his face.

It was three months after the engagement, coming up to the engagement part when a cousin of her's had approached. She had no brothers or sisters, bad had three loving cousins, one five years younger, another one only a year younger and another she'd been raised with, a bond closer than a cousins. They'd considered each other siblings, him being her brother, and she his sister. His heart lurched in his chest at the sight of her cousin's solemn face. He'd warned him of his cousins impending downfall. To watch her carefully and protect her from herself. Tom's heart beat anxiously in his chest, watching as her cousin left. The words buzzed around his head like hornets.

Over the next few months he'd begun to notice it more and more, the darkness plaguing her very soul. Sometimes she'd be sitting at the dinner table with him and her family, laughing and smiling. Everyone around her enjoying the night. But every now and then, she'd space out, face blanching, like the lights were on but no one was home. He'd spared a glance across the table at her cousin, his expression mirroring his own.

One night they'd been watching a movie and he'd gone to go make some popcorn. When he came back, she was sitting there, the moving playing. He'd laughed and joked about not waiting for him when he saw her face. It was blank once again. He was scared. Petrified. Worried. Lost. He sat with her until she slowly came back...four hours later. She'd muttered something about going to bed. He sat there all night, crying. 

By the time the wedding was a month away, she was almost completely lost. Nothing he did could make her happy or bring her back. He coudln't save her. He'd spoken to her cousin and tried to bring it up with her family, who waved it off as wedding nerves. But he knew better.

"Whats wrong with her. I want the truth, no matter how bad it is." He'd asked her cousin. With a remorseful sigh he'd told him.

"Long ago, it was believed that there was a curse put on all the women born in this family. That when they found true love, they'd slowly lose themselves until there was nothing left but an empty shell. It's already begun. Nothing can stop it."

His head reeled. Shocked at first, then enraged. "What?! No! Surely not! What about all the other women? Who put the curse on her? Why can't we get them to just undo it? Do you not care?!" He raged, a note of desperation in his voice.

Her cousin shook his head. "It's not that easy, Tom. The curse was placed centuries ago by a with, or so it was told. Her mother died when she was young, she'd barely managed to carry her full term before she was lost to the curse. She died shortly after, her father killed himself, leaving her with us. I've seen the darkness in her, it only occurs to women born into the family. My mother married into this line and was blessed to have three boys! Do you know how much it pains me, being the only one to believe it! None of the others do! I'd found the information about the curse in one of her mothers old books, just scribbles and nonsense, she'd tried to find a way to get rid of it-"  
Tom's head snapped up. "Can it be cured? Is there a cure? Where's the journal now?!" he asked, frantic. He shook his head. "There's a reason they don't believe me. The book was lost when the house was burn down by squatters, the house had been vacant for a while and soon became abandoned when we were eight, selling it to some guy overseas." Her cousin sighed and looked up at the sky. He looked at Tom once again. "Take care of her and enjoy what little time you can." He turned to exit, leaving a heartbroken Tom standing in the doorway of what'd he'd hoped to be their future home. Before her cousin left, he said one last thing. 

"If it's any consolation, you will see her again, as will I. This is why I need'nt fear."

The week of the wedding he'd taken her out to the cabin he'd rented for their honeymoon, the long car drive consisted of him watching her slip in and out of consciousness. 

They sat on the porch, overlooking the cold, freshwater river, running down from the mountains; the smell of fresh pine in the air.

They'd stayed like that, most the time. He tended to her, bathed her and fed her until the day of the supposed wedding, she'd finally slipped away, like the melted snow running of the pine needles in the morning sun.

His phone hadn't stopped ringing. Day in and day out. He sat in the home he'd bought for the two of them. Immobile. Stagnant. Frozen. He didn't let it go. He didn't yell, he didn't cry or drink away his woes. He attended the funeral, staring there as the priest droned on and on, about life lost. It wasn't until everyone had said their goodbyes, everyone except him had placed a rose on her coffin. Some were white and some were red. He'd picked yellow, her favourite colour rose. It wasn't until the last rose, his rose, touched the coffin did he feel it all. Like a rush of blood to the head. All at once, every emotion. 

Rage.

Grief.

Depression.

Denial

Acceptance.

Longing.

Shame.

Everything hit him.

The only noise to be heard was the agonizing howl of his broken soul. He'd almost wished someone would mistake him as a wild animal and struck him down. The pain, it was nothing that could be described. His soul was gone, a gaping hole left in his chest. 

The moths passed by and people went through the stages of loss.

Months turned into years, but Tom never noticed. Everything around him was a blur. He watched everyone live their lives, her family line producing only male heirs.

Before he knew it, he was an old man, a godfather of many of her cousins children, all boys. His favourite was Steven, the seventh son. One day, he'd taken Steven into his study and told him the story of his long lost love. Not that the young boy understood much, he was only seven at the time.

He'd told Steven to love without regret, just as he had. 

Steven's mother was calling out for him, as it was time to go, the sun sinking low in the cerulean sky. Before the young boy bounded off, Tom gave him a departing gift, in hopes that young Steven would be able to solve what he couldn't. 

He'd sent the boy home, smiling at his innocent youth. 

Tom had grown to be a man of eighty and was tired. He went over to the balcony and opened the doors, the curtains blowing gently in the breeze. Settling himself down in the chair, facing the setting sun, he smiled, photograph in hand. 

"I believe I've been kept waiting long enough."

And with the setting of the sun and the awakening of the stars, he was gone.

True to her cousins words. She was there, waiting for him beyond the horizon.  
  
  


 


	5. s o m e b o d y  t o  l o v e

He could't quite grow accustomed to it;

 

He knew the words, so freely spoken by others before her.

He knew how they sounded.

He knew the shape her lips made when she whispered the sweet words in his ear.

In the mornings,

In the afternoons 

and late at night.

 

After he kisses her sweetly.

After he kisses her passionately.

After he kisses her solemnly. 

Before

During

and 

After

their lovemaking, passionate coupling, rough sex.

 

She said it.

Everytime he looked at her.

 

She said it in her eyes.

Her hands.

Her laughter.

Her tears.

 

Her very soul.

 

He couldn't imagine being loved by anyone else in the world.

 

She was the one whose love was worth the most...

 

 

And never once did he hesitate to remind her how very loved she was back.


	6. w h y?

_She reminded him every now and then,_  
that she didn't know why he'd ever noticed her.  
  
It was an off chance meeting.   
She grabbed the last book on the shelf.  
  
Being the perfect gentleman, Tom insisted she have it; he even paid for it.   
  
She was incredibly shy, awkward and bumbling about, muttering her thanks, however she insisted she have it. He noticed that it took courage for her to look him in the eye and insist that he had it. He also noticed the look in her eye the moment that she'd laid her eyes on the book, almost as though she'd been searching for it for some time. Whilst only just moment before did the book first catch his eye.   
  
He admired her for it.  
  
"How about you read it first, and then whenever you're finished with it, if you'd like, you could lend it to me?"  
He didn't want to pressure her into anything, so he was surprised to find she'd agreed with him and he gave her his number, even going as far as to write it inside the cover of the book.  
  
  
For weeks he waited with bated breath, silently praying that maybe today was the day she would call.   
Finally, after two months she'd called him late one afternoon, her void quiet on the other end.  
  
"If-if you'd still like to read it..."  
  


 

 _He smiled._  
  
  
\-----  
  
  
She was incredibly energetic when she was around people with whom she was comfortable with.   
  
She'd talk into the late hours of the night about nothing and everything. And while she had assured him she was  happy with the relationship - she'd admitted that they'd had the most cliche, Nicholas Spark's first encounter that could ever have possibly happened.   
  
And he had to agree with her.   
  
He admired the way she applied her honesty; despite having trouble with socializing with strangers, she rarely hesitated to tell people what they think, in a completely open and disarming way.   
  
She'd pointed out people flaws in their logic or reasoning and instead of preying on them like most would, she'd insist that people improve on them.

 

 _To say he was a better and high improved man after meeting her would be an understatement._  
  
  
  
And he was always honest with her.   
  
At every opportune moment he had, he'd tell her he loved her.  
  
He loved the way her cheek lifted when she smiled.  
  
He loved the way her nose crinkled when she found something mildly amusing or slightly disturbing.  
  
He loved the way she clutched onto his hand among the throng of people around them.  
  
He loved her in all her entirety.  
  
Cliche or not. 


End file.
